Leo thinks I’m a single girl, and right now he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve for me to laugh at or to take (no lame behavior with this guy). I wonder, how would I respond to his pleas to date me or his request to come over and talk if I was single? Would I reciprocate and show him my heart or would I doubt his sincerity and play with his? Gosh, I think I would show him my heart but that would be so scary because what if, somewhere down the line, he rejected it. It seems safer to be the one to hold back a bit, to be the one in control of the game. But isn’t that why I know so many unhappy single people? Come to think of it, isn’t it what my husband has done to me for so many years?
“You there?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about what you just said, and while it’s tempting, it’s just not that easy.”
“I’m not trying to make this hard for you.”
Jesus! Why does his voice have to sound like that!? It makes pretend single girl want to show hot college boy a lot more than her heart! This is insane!
“You know what…I should probably go. I’m sorry…this was a…”
“Okay, okay, okay, since you won’t let me come over and you won’t commit to a date with me, I’ll have to do whatever I can to keep you on the phone for as long as I can.”
“Oh yeah…how do you plan on doing that?”
“Tell me what you’re wearing.”
Before I know it, pants are off and hands are in places never before traveled…since before my bath anyway. He’s doing the same, but for some reason I get the feeling he’s a frequent flier to his South Pole. Is this how young guys are these days? Most guys my age think it’s “gay” to masturbate (or at least they pretend it is). But, judging by the sound of things on the other end of this phone, I’d say they’re missing out big time! This guy’s not shy about what he’s doing to his body, and it’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever been a part of. His breath is steady, not exaggerated, and it’s letting me know exactly what he’s feeling. When he speaks there’s a confidence in his commands that makes me blissfully obedient. I do everything he tells me to do, and for once, I don’t fake a single move. He truly wants me to satisfy myself and finally, for the first time in my life, I cross the line. I feel it coming on like a tsunami, and it’s so much better than I’ve read about or heard my friends talk about. In fact, an orgasm is damned amazing, I think my friends have been lying about having as many of them as they say they do. If this happened to me on a regular basis, I’d be Skippin’ to my Lou, singing Zippity Do Dah and handing out Fourth of July sparklers to anyone and everyone. I’d be one happy mother-fucker. But regrettably, this has never happened to me before. I’m trembling, and tears are flowing at the realization of having waited twenty-eight years for this feeling. I can barely breathe thinking of a lifetime ahead without it.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh my God yeah, that was amazing Leo.”
“Are you sure? It sounds like you’re crying.”
“Just overwhelmed, I’ve never done that before.”
Obviously, he thinks I’m referring to the phone sex.
“Me neither. I loved it.”
And then, out of my euphoria and completely out of my ass, I say the words I’m fairly certain one is never supposed to say to a stranger they just had phone sex with.
“I think I could fall in love with you.”
Noooooooooo! I did NOT just say that!
Silence and then, “I don’t feel the same way.”
Uh-oh there’s that humiliated feeling vulnerable people hoping for true love get.
“I know I could fall in love with you.”
This is a no-win situation for me. I was damned if he said it and damned if he didn’t. I have to put a stop to this! But I can’t tell him I’m married because then he’ll think I’m some suburban trashy whore who got bored one night and picked up a college kid for shits and giggles. That’s not who I am, but I won’t be able to convince him otherwise. There’s no way out of this. I just need to suck it up and tell him the truth.
Finally, after two hours of delaying the inevitable with conversation that does nothing more than confirm the fact that I could fall in love with the guy, I decide it’s time to drop the M bomb.
“Leo, I have something to tell you, it’s the reason why I can’t see you, and I have a feeling you’re gonna hang up on me.”
“I doubt that.”
“No really, listen to me. I didn’t expect to meet you last night. I’m not in the position to hang out with a guy at a bar and talk to him until the sun comes up. Not to mention all of the other stuff we did in my car. You were just there last night talking about something fascinating and you drew me in for what should’ve been a short conversation. But then…”
“What’s your point? Because so far I still want to see you again.”
“Leo, I’m, I’m, um, I’m… engaged.”
Engaged!? Did I just say engaged!? I was supposed to say married!
What the hell is wrong with me? No, no wait, this is good! It’s not a total commitment like marriage and although it’s sleazy, it’s somewhat conceivable that someone could slip up before tying the knot. I may be able to escape this with a morsel of dignity. I proceed to tell him that I’m engaged to be married in July to a guy who I’ve been dating since high school, and I’ve never cheated on him, until now. Other than the engagement part, all of the other stuff is true.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? For meeting me? I’ll admit the timing is bad, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that we probably have something better going on than what you have with that other guy.”
Leo’s claim that my relationship with my husband isn’t all that special makes me irritable. I married a good guy, a guy that would never do to me what I did to him. All of my energy has to be on repairing the damage done to him and not on this insanity. Right now I need to end this, this game I’m playing alone.
“Leo, regardless of how crappy my relationship with him might look, I have to figure out where to go from here. We’ve been together a long time, and I have to show some consideration for that right now.
Can you understand that?”
“I understand your world turned upside down last night. I understand you never thought you could spend eight amazing hours with a twenty-two-year-old guy you met at a bar. I understand we have more in common than either of us thought was humanly possible. I understand that you called me tonight to say goodbye but ended up telling me that you think you could fall in love with me. I understand all of that, Chrissy, but don’t ask me to UNDERSTAND why you would ever consider marrying some other guy.”
“I think it’s best if I go now.”
“Just give me your phone number.”
“I can’t.”
“C’mon, I want a way to reach you.”
“You can’t.”
“Do you live with him?” If he only knew.
“Please stop. On top of feeling terrible, I feel like a fool.”
“Chrissy, think about everything that happened last night and tonight. Do you think stuff like that happens every day?”
No. And it’s making pretend single girl feel like one fucked up married woman. This is over…now.
“I meant everything I said to you Leo. I really hope you believe that.”
“Just tell me where you live…please.”
Why is this so hard? I don’t even know him.
“You have so much to look forward to. So many years of your twenties ahead of you…your last year of college. All of that needs to be your focus right now. You can’t get wrapped up in my stupid mistakes.”
I made the call. I heard his voice. I felt beautiful one last time. The deal I made with myself is done.
“You’re only twenty-eight, Chrissy, not that much older than me. Don’t give me the “enjoy your young life” speech. Just give me a chance.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
He says nothing, but he doesn’t hang u
p either. After a few seconds, I press the end call button. Slumped on my Ethan Allen couch, I stare into the perfect fire and sob uncontrollably.
Is Leo a message sent to me to repair a marriage that I didn’t even know was broken? Or is he a sign to run as far away from it as possible? I definitely need a therapist! I put my pants back on and scramble for the phone book. After running down the list of family and marriage counselors, I settle on the first woman I find. Like my gynecologist, I gotta have a woman. How the hell is a man supposed to know what I feel, medically or mentally? Never mind that it’s the middle of the night, I call her anyway.
“Hi, uh my name is Chrissy. It’s, oh geez, its three o’clock, Monday morning. I need some help. I made a horrible mistake. I’ve been married for three years, and I love my husband very much. I, I met someone in a bar on Saturday night and I… I crossed the line. Jesus, I don’t even go to bars! I’m a good person! I have to fix the damage I’ve done. I need help. Can you please help me?”
I leave my contact information on her voicemail and set the tear-encrusted phone back on the charger. I’m so tired but I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again. I repeat his name over and over again in my mind. Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo, Leo. I reach for my wine glass. It’s still full. Apparently he was all the stimulation I needed tonight.
Fraudster
January, 1998
Kurt arrives home from his tradeshow in thirteen hours. My trusting and unsuspecting husband, who never in a million years would imagine the shame I’ve bestowed upon our marriage, is gonna crawl into bed with me tonight. Until two nights ago, it’s a thought that would only irritate me. Now it makes me want to throw up.
Last night, after I left the message for the therapist, I pulled my lime green sweater set out of its hiding place and clung to it like a security blanket. The smell of it lulled me into a few hours of sleep and facilitated restless dreams about Leo. I wonder… will I have those same kinds of dreams when Kurt’s sleeping beside me? I also wonder what’s gonna stop me from calling Leo the next time Kurt goes out of town? Will I be able to act like I did before he left?
Since meeting Leo a few days ago, it’s been hard to concentrate on anything other than him. I thought coming to work this morning would be a nice distraction from my slut-fest of a weekend, but not so. I cancelled all of my meetings, forwarded my calls to voicemail and I’ve been hiding in my office for the last six hours, staring at my wedding ring and rehashing every second of my time with him, hoping to find a reason to beat myself up. But my thoughts only make me giggly and tingly. I wonder what’s going through his mind right now. I want to think he’s overwhelmed with heartache about my so-called engagement, but I bet I’m already a thing of the past to him. He’s probably laughing with his friends about how he got an older chick to talk dirty to him on the phone. It all seemed so special when it was happening, but right now I feel like such a fool. He’s twenty-two, for Christ sake and I’m sure he’s already got a couple of girls lined up to hang out with this week. That’s what twenty-two-year-old guys do right? He seemed different, but I bet he’s not.
I leave work early to meet my best friends for one of our monthly girls’ night out thingies. We gotta wrap it up earlier than usual because Nicole’s working the nightshift and has to be at the hospital by eight. It’s a bummer for me because I’d rather arrive home long after Kurt falls asleep. You know… postpone the inevitable lies about what I did while he was away. I’m last to arrive at the restaurant because, as usual, I take extra time touching up my makeup in my car.
“Well don’t you look pretty, Miss Chrissy!”
“Thanks Court! You look…shit, you look really tired!”
“Get off my back. I came straight from working the last sixteen hours. You’re lucky I even made it.”
“Right, like you’d rather be home with your screaming baby instead! I know you’re hoping Guss puts him to bed before you get home, don’t even try to deny it!”
Courtney swings her glass up at me in a silent toast of agreement and takes a swig of her wine.
Shaking her repugnant head, Kelly says, “That’s terrible! I feel bad for even being here. My kid was crying ‘Mommy, Mommy, Mommy’ as I was walking out the door. Craig had this little sourpuss look on his face. Poor guy is hopeless without me.”
We all look at Kelly like we want to vomit, but of course, I’m the only one who speaks up. “Well, good for you and your friggin’ hallmark card family life, Kelly.”
“Shut up and order guys! I gotta be at work in two hours. We can talk about how perfect Kelly’s life is over appetizers, how chaotic my life and Courtney’s life are over dinner, and we’ll talk about how easy Chrissy’s life is over dessert.”
“Easy? And why do I get dessert? It’s the shortest course!”
“Oh puleeez, my charmed girlfriend! You make more money than me and Courtney with NO student loans to pay back. You get to travel to really cool places like New York, Hong Kong, and Yap.” Looking at Court and Kel, “And for the record, I still don’t think Yap exists.” Then, back at me. “You go to fashion shows…boss people around…and get tons of free clothes! You have an awesome house in Danville that gets cleaned once a week by a housekeeper, and you don’t even have kids! Seriously, how messy can it be? And don’t even get me started on that husband of yours. Are you fucking kidding me that you get to go to bed with that man whenever you want? Damn right, you get the shortest course!”
They’re lovingly laughing at me and I’m doing my best “don’t you wish you were me” dance in my seat. Inside, I’m horrified. I’ve been questioning my career since the day it started, and since Leo, I wonder if I’m even in the right relationship. The two things that define me are the two things I’m not sure I want anymore. Without them who am I?
The conversation soon moves past my so-called perfect life and onto topics that are more important, like the guy who had a coke bottle stuck up his ass on Nicole’s shift a few nights ago to Courtney’s urinary tract research grant proposal and Kelly’s crusade to make hot school lunches healthier for kids. The coke bottle up the ass story was engaging, but after that my thoughts drifted off to Leo. These women are supposed to be my garbage can for all the shit life dumps on me. So why is it so hard to tell them I screwed up, that I turned my perfect little life into a total cluster fuck? Probably because I’ve been trying to shed my role of the clusterfuck queen since high school…
*****
May, 1985
“C’mon Court, we’re cutting fourth period and driving to Nicole’s house to watch One Life to Live!”
“Uhhhh… .Earth to Chrissy! We don’t have our driver’s licenses yet! Shit, we don’t even have a car, you fool!”
“We do now. I told my brother I forgot my bio book in his car.” I take the keys out of my pocket and dangle them in front of Courtney’s face, as Kelly grabs her arm to drag her to the parking lot.
“It’s no biggie! Kelly’s almost done with drivers-ed, she knows what to do!”
“No way! Besides, I’m still grounded from the vodka that CHRISSY put in my hair spray bottle.”
“Well, you’re the dummy who let your mom borrow your hair spray!”
“Amen to that Kelly. C’mon though Court… you have to admit it’s a genius way to get buzzed at the movies. A little spritz here and a little spritz there and voila!”
“Yeah Chrissy, you’re a rocket scientist. You and your genius ideas already have me grounded for the rest of my life. “
“Please come, Courtney, it won’t be the same without you. Please, please, please!”
“No way! Later.”
Five minutes later, with Kelly in the driver’s seat, we’re cruising down
Fremont Blvd. having the time of our lives with hamburgers and fried zucchini from Carl’s Jr. Ten minutes later, we get pulled over by a cop. An hour later, we’re sitting in the principal’s office, and thirty minutes after that our parents arrive to beat the crap out of us.
April, 1986
&
nbsp; “I wanna wait outside of Kurt Gibbons’ house and follow him when he goes out.”
They’re staring at me like I’m a total stalker freak.
“What!? You asked what I wanted to do tonight, and that’s what I wanna do!
Can you three think of anything better?”
Obviously not, because fifteen minutes later we’re filling up Kelly’s tank at the Gas-n-Go in preparation for “Operation KG.” Just as the three of them are piling back into the car, I run out of the bathroom and breathlessly tell them the greatest news ever.
“Omigod, you guys, there’s cases and cases of beer just sitting in there!”
“So?”
“What do you mean so?! Let’s drink some of it! How the hell will they know who took it?”
“Omigod, that’s such a good idea, Chrissy!” Nicole always has my back when it comes to alcohol consumption.
Before Courtney can talk us out of the plan, Nicole and I yank her into the bathroom, while Kelly parks the car. Once she arrives, we let her in, lock the door, and immediately get to work on the beer, laughing and burping like sweet little sixteen-year-olds do. After slamming beer number two, there’s a loud bang on the door.
“Hey ladies, you don’t think we have cameras in there? When you get out, I want to see some driver’s licenses and some cash.”
After contemplating making a run for it, we give ourselves up to Aabdar Muhammed Abdallah who, after taking a quick glance at our licenses, calls our parents. That was the end of anyone driving anywhere for a month.
May 1987
The Life List (The List Trilogy) Page 4
